Heeeeeeeeeeey SPN Family! Happy SPN Day! Our show is officially 14 years old- can you believe it?

In honor of this most historic and wonderful day, here's a story :) Thank you to all who read and review! If you have suggestions for one-shots, please let me know. I have a terrible turn around time, but I'll get to it, I promise. This particular story is for all the people who have asked for more Sam/Natalie stuff. Special thanks to Jenmm31 who helps me fine tune Sam. She's a genius! Go read her stories!

A/N, in this story, Natalie is six, just about to turn seven. Please see profile page for disclaimers.

Natalie awoke with a rush, adrenaline already coursing through her veins. It took her a second to remember why she was so excited, but then she looked around the room she was in. Her bed, her toys, her books- that's right! She was home!

They had been on the road for three whole months this time, going from case to case to case. It was the longest she'd ever been on the road since the boys made the decision to pull her from public school and keep her with them. She was thriving under this new regime- Hunter Homeschooling. Ever since Crowley had come looking for her about 6 or 7 months ago, Sam and Dean had wanted her with them for her safety, teaching her everything from addition and subtraction to how to kill a wendigo. It was sometimes hard being on the road-not knowing exactly what your bed was going to look like from one night to the next, but it was exciting too- like a new adventure that you got to start every day.

Even though Sam and Dean very rarely let her 'in the field' with them, she still reveled in helping them when she was allowed to. She was getting good at identifying the supernatural creatures that they hunted. She knew all the exorcisms, and often practiced them in front of the motel bathroom mirrors, just to see what she would look like saying them for real someday. She could draw a pretty good devil's trap too. Well, they were easier than angel sigils. She was becoming more and more familiar with the dusty ancient tomes that Sam insisted on hauling around with them, finding them informative and fascinating. She was the happiest she'd ever been, out on the road with Dad and her Uncle Sam. That wasn't to say, though, that she didn't worry about her Pops back at home.

She'd spent last year with Bobby, while they tried kindergarten. Despite the fact that school had been an unqualified disaster, Natalie and Bobby had grown quite close. He'd still been in a wheelchair at the time, and she had learned how to help him out with everyday chores while he taught her things she craved to know about the supernatural. Bobby would never have admitted it, but having a feisty little bundle of energy with pigtails around had knocked some of the crust off the old man's heart. Since Cas had healed him though, it was much easier for him to get around and take care of himself more fully now, taking yet another burden off the Winchester boys' shoulders in their decision to keep the kid with them.

Natalie and Bobby talked on the phone at least three times a week, usually more. They had developed a grandfather/granddaughter relationship that suited them both just fine. So the fact that she was home now to 'check on Pops', as she put it, made her pretty happy. She had helped him with the dishes last night, talking a mile a minute and filling him in on every little detail of her past three months- as if she hadn't already told him on the phone. He couldn't bring himself to stop her retelling of the tales, though. It was just nice to fill the silence he hadn't quite gotten used to again.

She bounced out of bed the next morning, barely pausing to wipe the sleep from her eyes. She was done being in dumb old bed for the night- now it was time to play! She raced out the door in her mismatched pajamas- Batman on the bottom and Frozen on the top- a particular favorite pairing of hers. She skipped down the first three steps, and then began jumping from step to step, relishing the fact that she COULD. None of the motels they stayed at had stairs, and if they did, they were outside and she wasn't allowed outside by herself. She was determined to make the most out of her freedom.

She landed with a thud at the bottom of the steps. Only then did she remember Bobby's repeated warnings about her playing on the stairs. She never seemed to remember them until she was at the bottom. She froze for a minute, listening for his roar, or even his heavy breathing that meant she was in trouble, but she heard neither. He must have still been asleep. Today was TOTALLY her lucky day.

She screeched into the kitchen with bare feet, and was surprised to see Sam awake. She was usually the first one to rise in the family. She skidded to a stop right next to him as he stirred something on the stove.

"Good morning, Uncle Sam!" Natalie said, chipper as a bluebird on the first day of spring. Sam looked down at her with a still-sleepy smile.

"Morning, Bug," he said, giving whatever was in the saucepan another stir before reaching for his coffee cup.

"Whatcha making?" she asked, standing up on her tiptoes to try to see. After a long sip of coffee, he answered.

"Breakfast."

"Awesome! I'm starving!"

"Of course you are. You are Dean's child."

She was about to answer 'Damn straight', but she suddenly remembered that that particular phrase would get her in a lot of trouble with her uncle. She still didn't quite get why she could say bad words around Dean and Bobby, but not Sam. However, enough time in the corner and repeated mouth soapings from Sam taught her to think twice about her language around him. She just giggled instead and bounced higher, trying to see.

"What did you make?" she asked. Instead of answering right away, Sam took another sip of coffee, before turning away from the stove and focusing on her.

"I told you- breakfast," he said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes in that way only a six year old can do. "I mean what did you MAKE for breakfast?"

"It's a surprise."

"I love surprises!"

"I know you do. Why don't you go set the table for me and you?"

"Aren't Dad and Pops coming?"

"Probably not for a while. We were up late working on some research."

Natalie was heading towards the silverware drawer, when she turned around and faced him. "I can help with research!" she said excitedly, before resuming her trek.

Sam nodded. "We'll see." This case was a little grisly for a six year old, but Dean would probably let her in on it. Sam mentally rolled his eyes- he and Dean definitely had different parenting techniques and opinions about what was appropriate for a child, that was for sure.

Sam reached up into the cabinet, watching to make sure Natalie wasn't looking. He extracted two bowls and put them quickly on the counter where she couldn't see. He then pulled a plastic container of blueberries towards him, and turned on the tap to rinse them off.

Meanwhile, Natalie gathered forks and spoons carefully, shut the drawer, and made her way over to the table. She meticulously set the table with great care, wanting to impress Sam. She raced back to the fridge and pulled out the orange juice carton. The glasses were too high up in the cabinet for her to reach, but at least she could do that to help. She carefully carried it back to the table, then turned around to see if Sam had seen her do that.

He had indeed been watching. "Good job, Bug," he commented proudly. Too pleased at his praise to speak, she just blushed and climbed up into her chair.

"Are you making pancakes?" she asked. She couldn't help it- she didn't like not knowing things, and Sam wasn't telling her what he was making.

At her question, Sam got his "Dad" face on. "You've had pancakes for the last four mornings in a row."

"That's because they're delicious."

Sam turned his back and rolled his eyes so she couldn't see. Great. Now she even sounded like Dean. He quickly put the finishing touches on the food while his back was still turned. "I know you like your pancakes, but you need to eat something healthier for a change."

At those words, Natalie turned pale. Oh no. No no no. There was no way Uncle Sam was going to try this again. It just wasn't possible. But maybe she was jumping to conclusions. "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.

"I mean, you're going to have something healthy for breakfast for once," he answered, picking up the bowls and heading towards the table.

She cowered as if he was carrying a live viper in his hands and heading straight for her. "Oh no," she mumbled.

"No drama, Bug," he said in a light but firm tone, getting closer.

She paid no attention to his gentle admonition. "No, Uncle Sam, please, not-" She couldn't finish the sentence before he set the bowl down in front of her. Oh no.

Oatmeal.

Of all things, it had to be Oatmeal. Gag. Barf. Ew.

Every time they came back to Bobby's, Sam would get on a kick about all of them eating healthier. All the greasy spoons they patronized on the road suddenly took on a different feel to him, now that they had a growing little girl. Since he would have regular access to a fridge, stove, and dishes at home and could cook, they would all have to endure a day or so of Sam's the-entire-family-goes-on-rabbit-food kick before Dean finally broke down and refused to eat anything that wasn't processed. However, he usually sided with Sam for another half day or so when it came to the kid, trying to be a responsible parent. Sam would try any combination of healthy foods for Natalie to enjoy. And his favorite dish to try was oatmeal.

Typically, she pretty much enjoyed what Sam would put in front of her on these health food kicks. He could make really good chicken, and she loved salads and fruit. But with oatmeal- that was another story. No matter how many combinations of tasty things he tried on it, she just couldn't stomach the stuff. It was vile, it was disgusting, it tasted like hellhound vomit. But Sam wouldn't listen to any of that- he still insisted on her eating it.

She wrinkled her nose and gave him a bitch face that would normally have gotten her in big trouble. However, knowing her hatred of the substance and knowing this was going to be a fight, Sam was expecting it.

"Look, I put brown sugar, blueberries, strawberries, and apples in it!" he said in an upbeat tone, trying to get her excited about it.

She wasn't buying it. "It's OATMEAL," she said in a disgusted tone.

"Yeah, but you've not tried it with all this stuff you like on it yet."

"It's still OATMEAL."

"Bug, I said no drama. Just try it," he said in his gentle but no-nonsense tone, as he began to eat his own bowlful.

She picked up her spoon like it was a red-hot poker. She knew Sam wasn't going to let up on her until she actually tried some. But she also knew that no amount of anything topping it made it anything other than oatmeal. She pushed the fruit around on top for a while, trying to make it look like she was stirring it, but really she was stalling. And Sam knew it.

"Natalie," he said gently.

She sighed heavily. "Can't I just have the fruit instead?" she asked hopefully. "I like the fruit!"

"You can eat a bite of oatmeal with each piece of fruit. How about that?"

"That's not going to stop it from tasting like hot barf."

At that, Sam laid down his own spoon and gave her a stern look. She squirmed a bit, knowing he was less than pleased with her descriptiveness.

"Sorry," she mumbled, trying to sound sincere. Sam picked his spoon back up and scooped up a bite for himself, not wanting to make a mountain out of a molehill.

"The brown sugar makes it sweet too, and combined with the fruit, it's pretty good," he said, popping the spoon into his mouth and looking at her pointedly.

She abandoned all subtleties and went to straight up begging. "Please don't make me eat this stuff, Uncle Sam, it's so GROSS."

"No it's not. Just try it."

"But I've tried it a million times before and I still hate it."

"You've never tried it with the brown sugar and fruit. Try it."

"Please?"

No answer.

Heaving a huge sigh, she dramatically flung her elbows onto the table, and dug into the bowl. She made sure she had a piece of blueberry and apple on the spoon with the dreaded oatmeal, and, with a pinched face, took a bite.

Yup. Still disgusting.

She was tempted to lean forward and spit it back into the bowl, but she saw Sam watching her out of the corner of his eye, and knew that option was out. With another grimace, she swallowed. After it went down, she stuck her tongue out and made a gagging noise- she couldn't help it.

"Bug."

"I told you, it's gross!"

"And I told you, no drama. Just eat."

She poked her spoon in a couple more times. "C'mon Uncle Sam," she said in her best wheeling and dealing voice. "I promise I'll eat all my fruit, but please don't make me eat the rest of this."

"You're having oatmeal for breakfast. Just deal with it."

She hated it when he laid down the law like that. He didn't often do it, but when he did, it sparked something in her. She would never get away with being defiant towards Dean in situations like this, but Sam…Sam was a little more pliable. And she was willing to push her luck with him.

She glared again at the hateful dish. He was going to force her to eat something so vile and disgusting? Fine. She'd show him. She pulled the bowl close to herself, leaned forward, and began deliberately shoveling it into her mouth, dribbling most of it down her chin.

"Natalie, stop it," Sam scolded. Upon hearing that, she leaned back and wiped her mouth with her arm. Which of course, sent Sam even more over the edge.

"Don't do that. You know better. Use your napkin."

She snatched up her napkin and wiped her now-oatmeal covered arm with it. When she saw that she had managed to get rid of a good couple spoonfuls of oatmeal that way, her eyes lit up.

"Don't even think about it," Sam said, fully aware of what was going on inside her head. "Sit up straight and eat."

Out of options, she sat up straight, but just couldn't bring herself to lift another spoonful to her mouth. "It's so gross," she whined again. He didn't pay any attention- he just kept eating, but she could feel that he was at the end of his patience. Knowing she had pushed as far as it was safe to go before she really got in trouble, she tentatively scooped up another bite.

Luckily for her, her saving grace walked in at that exact moment.

"Dad!" she shrieked delightedly, as Dean stumbled his way into the kitchen. He held up one finger in response to her beckoning. He made his way towards the coffee pot, snatched the closest mug, not caring if it was clean or not, and quickly poured a cupful. Natalie knew better than to interrupt before coffee, so she just waited.

Sam saw his opportunity and grabbed it. "Natalie, eat," he said sternly. The hopeful expression that had dawned on her face when Dean showed up quickly turned to horror. Her eyes flicked back to her father as if begging him to save her. Upon hearing his brother's tone, Dean's gaze had wandered to the scene at the table. The bowl in front of his daughter told him exactly what he needed to know about what was going on.

He always patiently tolerated Sam's rabbit food kick for the first 24 hours they were home, mostly because he didn't want to hear Sam's sermon on "Why the Kid should eat better" for the ten thousandth time. However, he knew that Natalie usually did eat pretty well- for a kid on the road with hunters- and he knew how roundly she despised oatmeal. He took a sip of the liquid gold that would help him regain the ability to speak, and waited to see what Natalie's reaction was going to be.

Knowing she now had to be super careful, Natalie's gaze slid back to Sam. She made a tiny whining noise, but Sam fixed her with his "Dad" glare again, and she knew she was stuck. She took another bite, making sure to over exaggerate her disgusted face as she chewed and swallowed, sticking her tongue out again.

Finally, the coffee awakened Dean's brain enough to speak. "Dude, why do you make her eat that crap? You know she hates it," he said, his voice still gravelly with sleep.

"I'll eat the fruit! I said I'll eat the healthy fruit, Dad, I swear!" she begged again, knowing that Dean was now on her side and she stood a chance at getting out of the oatmeal filled hell hole she was stuck in.

Sam exhaled heavily. "Dean, she needs to eat healthier."

"That crap takes like boiled vomit."

"That's what I said!"

Sam shut her up with another glare before turning his gaze back to his brother. "That IS what she said. And we're going to need to talk about THAT." Dean just rolled his eyes and took another sip, waiting for Sam's diatribe to be over. "But she needs to use her manners and eat what's put in front of her," Sam said pointedly.

Dean nodded. "Fine," he said, turning his back on the scene. He and Sam had had several conversations about being on the same page when it came to parenting Natalie, as they were both in this together. They agreed to try not to contradict each other in front of her, even though Dean always got the last say.

Feeling like her last hope had just been dashed on the rocks when Dean turned away, Natalie looked back to her bowl in despair. She was really going to have to eat this stuff. She wondered if she could do it without hurling. But Dean flipped open a box on the counter, extracted something, and walked over to his daughter. He held it in front of her face. It was a chocolate glazed donut.

"There you go. Eat what's in front of you like Uncle Sam said," he said matter of factly. Natalie's eyes lit up. Her father WAS saving her! She didn't have to eat the stupid oatmeal! She snatched the donut and gave Dean a grateful look. "Scoot," he commanded, but gave her a wink. With a giggle she scrambled out of her chair and took off into the living room with her donut before Sam could intercept her.

Back in the kitchen, Sam threw up his hands in frustration. "Dude!" he said to his brother, irritated.

"What?" Dean said, feigning ignorance as he went back to the box and grabbed a donut for himself. "You wanted her to eat what was in front of her, didn't you? Well, mission accomplished." He took a satisfied sip of coffee.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Sam, she's a warrior. She needs to eat like one."

"And donuts are 'warrior's food'," Sam responded sarcastically.

"Damn straight," Dean said, taking a huge bite and demolishing about half his donut in one gulp.

Sam suddenly got a pleased but strange look on his face. "You like that donut?"

Dean shrugged. "It's a donut. What's not to like?"

"Well, I just want you to know. That donut came from the same store as the oatmeal and the fruit."

Dean stopped mid-chew. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that the donut in your hand and in your mouth is healthy. With no real sugar, butter, or flour," Sam said in triumph, knowing he had just gotten the better of his big brother. He saved the best for last. "It's VEGAN."

Dean's eyes went wide with horror. What the hell was in his mouth?! He wasn't sure if it was OKAY to swallow- how the hell could he look at himself in the mirror if he ate something vegan?!

"Why would they even make such an abomination?" he growled, disgusted. He finally swallowed bitterly. Truth be told, it wasn't terrible. No way was he going to let Sam know that, though. He sighed. "Okay, look. Don't tell her. She's happy, she's eating your…organic…rabbit food…crap…and I look like the hero. One for you, one for me. Let's leave this one be."

"Fine," Sam said, not even trying to cover his smile, nor was he going to correct Dean's use of the word organic. He had gotten one on Natalie and Dean, but he wasn't going to make Dean completely aware of that. He finished off his oatmeal, cleaned out his and Natalie's dishes, poured himself a new cup of coffee, and headed back towards the study to see if he could figure out the rest of the Latin translation he'd been working on.

Once Dean was sure that Sam was no longer in earshot, he quickly cleaned out the rest of the donut box, constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure no one saw him eating something…healthy.